A Poem A Day – January

Ingrid at Experiments in Fiction can be found on Twitter @Experimentsinfc. She has started A Poem A Day challenge over where the bluebird flies – tweet a poem every day. When I first read her post about it I was very clear with myself that I was not going to get sucked into that! However, here we are. Not quite a poem a day, but here is my January poetry diary – in no particular order, just what Twitter threw up.

Dawn slumps in
sullen
doesn’t meet
my eye

left her fags
in the kitchen
last night

no matches
no light

still exhales
greyness

Let’s go as close
to the edge
as we can –

to where the sand
and the sea
and the sky
and the sand
and the spray

are one great
glorious roar
of wildness

last night
a lemon-peel moon,
this morning, frost
and hungry birds

sunrise
and all those branches
scratching at the sky
begging for light

and it’s always hard
to step into coldness
yes but you must
unfurl

the wood
silent as
a temple

suddenly
a hare
racing like
a heartbeat

the sound of starlings
wheeling and whorling –
that rustle is winter

pause listen
breathe

January
and it’s easy
to wake before
the sun

to lie
in the
sullen dark

dreaming
the world
awake

today
the world
overflows
with the sound
of water
running water
all life
and movement

filling the house
with the scent of spice
cinnamon and ginger
cardamom and cloves
warmth worth its weight
in gold

not even sure
the sun
is rising

the sky
all sludge
and river mud

if you could
plunge your arms
into those clouds

they’d come out
gleaming
sticky

Press your fingertip
into the clay
and map the
mountain
of your story

contour lines
like a labyrinth

because
we are all
seeking the
silent centre

3am
bitch-squats
on my chest

not the gale
or the rain
clattering

not pain
or grief
or fear
or anything

just the night
whispering
in my ear

what kind
of fool
keeps a wolf
in a cage
of bone?

not enough thread
to stitch
my story together

leave it

ragged
tattered

free to fly
with the wind

today
everything screams
be alive

the hail
shouts into
my face

the wind
grabs me
shakes me

the sea roars

be alive
be alive
be alive

the world
silver
moth wing
the sky
tasting of
nothing
I could crush
these clouds
silver juice
scented
with snow

I love
the suddenness
of flames

how they open out

how they create
themselves

our footprints
melted in
the sunlight

as if we’d never
walked together
up the lane
beyond the
shadows

the world ends
at the end
of the lane

beyond there

dragons
things with
teeth and claws

mist
the absence
of colour

charred
remnants

ice

I don’t know

I turn back
before
I’m forced
to see

I am a comma
curving a brief
pause into
the word flow
of the day
cat-curling
round the lines
between
the stories

Advertisement